


Déjà Vu

by Reapers-Carino (SweetKimchii)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Amnesia, Brainwashing, Dark Mercy, Deja Vu, F/M, Kidnapping, Mad Scientists, Memory Loss, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Pre-Fall of Overwatch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-12
Updated: 2017-01-12
Packaged: 2018-09-17 00:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9296915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetKimchii/pseuds/Reapers-Carino
Summary: You knew that name. You had heard it in your dreams, felt it tickled the back of your mind. Why couldn't you pull it to the forefront? Why couldn't you actually remember who that was?((This was created from the prompt below and I used Dark!Mercy vibes to fill everything out.Anon: Yo! Can I get reaper with an s/o like Widowmakers but they remember him a little? But every time he approaches them they're frightened due to the trauma, thank you!))





	1. Chapter 1

‘Keep out of his range. Do not engage. Retreat if seen by subject.’ 

 

Infiltration had been your main goal; break into the outlier Talon organization, gather information from their computers systems and get back out. You had packed extremely lightly, a blaster pistol on your hip, a thigh bag, your transdermal poison gloves and your ‘invisibility cloak’. Thus far the light bending and refracting cloth had been keeping any direct action unnecessary, a quick jump into a corner or against the wall behind the fabric shielding you from plain sight. That is how you had made it so far into the building, your back pressed against the wall as you stalked into the mainframe room, ducking into a corner. There were still men wandering about but you weren’t worried. This plan had been perfectly crafted by Angela, the pacifistic omnipotent surgeon. She said that Talon had information on cell absorptive-regenerative technology that could be absolutely ground-breaking for her work. She  _ needed _ it if she was going to learn how to perfect her research on life-restoring and healing technologies. And you were more than happy to oblige the woman, she had saved your life afterall. 

 

She had found you after you had been critically wounded and left for dead in a coma in Lagos after a protest between pro- and anti-Omnics broke out. She had responded with other international disaster services and had taken you back to her facility in Sweden to personally look into your recovery. She had tended and cared for you the entire year, keeping your body healthy and tending to you as best as you can; staving off muscular atrophy, brain damage and bed sores. Even with all her hard work, however, you still had woken in ‘imperfect health’ as Mercy had called it. 

 

Retrograde amnesia, most events prior to waking up in her lab wiped from your mind. Your name, your age, your background; all gone and forgotten. You had the occasional flicker; blue uniforms and sparkling, gold metals, the ever-lingering smell of peanut butter, a swirl of words and phrases in languages you had never known but could somehow understand and a man in black. He came to you in your dreams most nights; a face you couldn’t see and a person you couldn’t reach. But you  _ knew  _ him, you could feel it in the very pit of your being. He meant something to you, he was someone important to you...but you couldn’t for the life of you remember.

 

Angela said that you would remember soon enough, explained that worrying over it would do nothing more than push the memories further from your mind. Angela had taken to calling you Veil, a name that tugged at something in your chest, something that made you feel a slight connection to who you were. She even offered you a way to take your mind off of struggling to remember, she would train you. And train you she did. Rigorous physical hand to hand combat, arms training and poison applications. You had stumbled your first few weeks but you then found yourself using muscles and attacks you had never seen before. Muscle memory, Angela had explained, hypothesizing that you must of had some type of training before all this had taken place. You had learned to love training, it gave you a connection to the life you couldn’t remember, to the person you were before all of this. That’s why when Mercy had asked you to use those skills, you had jumped at the chance. Jumped at the chance that maybe, just maybe helping Angela would unlock the barrier in your way. 

  
  


“HQ to Veil, come in Veil.”

 

Your hand flew to your ear, Angela’s voice coming through loud and clear. You pressed yourself into a corner next to one of the computer’s control panel, throwing your cloak over your head before responding.

 

“Yes HQ”, you whispered, your voice barely rising over the sound of the computer fans in the background. 

 

“Status report?”

 

“I’ve found the computers. They’re switching shifts now. Going to extract the information and pop smoke.”

 

“Good girl...see you soon.”

 

You smiled, a swell of pride filling your chest as you pulled your hand away from your ear. Your eyes danced around the emptying room, smiling to yourself as you watched the last technician walk out, leaving you alone with the high speed computers. Your hands dipped into your thigh pouch, fishing out the sticky holopad. All she had to do was attach the device to the mainframe and it would do its magic, gleaning the information that Angela needed within five minutes. In, out and done in no time. Your hands pressed the device against the back of one of the mainframes, smiling as you watched the device come to life, code dancing across the screen. This felt oddly...familiar. The infiltrating, the stealing of information, the adrenaline rush at watching men come and go mere inches away from you. It rattled something hard in your mind, your body flinching as you tried to think too far back. Angela had warned that this was a sign that you were pushing yourself too hard but...you could feel something back there, your fingers grazing it but not able to fully grasp it.

 

You nibbled on the inside of your cheeks, fingers tapping against the warmth of the mainframe as you mentally counted down. Your fingers hovered over your sidepiece, your foot bouncing as your eyes darting around. Something felt off. Something was off. The room had gone eerily silent, the sound of computer fans gone. 

 

“What in th---”

 

Black smoke surrounded you, forcing your back against one of the tall computers, an arm pressed against your throat. Your hands came up trying to claw at the offending limb, fingers slipping through the viscous black gas before both of your wrists ended up pinned above your head. This is who Angela had warned you against, who she had told you to immediately run from if encountered. This was ‘The Reaper’. 

 

Your eyes danced over him, trying to search for a weakness to allow you to escape. Black armor, black clothing, black hood with a white mask, it reminded you of the barn owl...of the night you and--- You eyes snapped shut, a reprimanding sharp pain crackling through your brain. You groaned lowly shaking your head and opening your eyes to glare at the monster of a man in front of you. This had to be his doing...right? You took in a gasp of air as you felt his forearm pull back, his red eyes looking you up and down. 

 

“What do you--”

 

“Y/N?”

 

_ ‘Mi reina, te amo.’ _

 

_ ‘Querida.’ _

 

_ ‘Keep that lip up and I’ll show you want happens to bad girls.’ _

 

_ ‘Querida princesita’ _

 

_ ‘I love you Y/N.’ _

 

Your body went stiff, unfocused eyes going wide as memories hit you like a blow to the head.Y/N. Y/N. That name. Why did you know that name. Why did you know that voice? What...were those memories?! Tricks...they were tricks. You couldn’t know this person. This is why Angela had told you to run, he was manipulating you. He had to be.,...right?

 

Adrenaline came swooping in, hitting you like tank, hand grasping at your pistol as you dropped your body weight. Your hand ripped the holopad off of the machine as you went to the ground, spinning and throwing your cloak over your head. You needed to get away from him, he was trying to confuse you. You took off running, sparing a glance over your shoulder as you doubled back the way you came, hand lifting to your comm. 

 

“HQ. I’ve been compromised…”


	2. Presque Vu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Presque vu (noun, from French, meaning "almost seen") is the intense feeling of being on the very brink of a powerful epiphany, insight, or revelation, without actually achieving the revelation. The feeling is often therefore associated with a frustrating, tantalizing sense of incompleteness or near-completeness.

“Who was that”, you asked, voice thick and heavy with confusion, bewilderment. Your evac from the Talon base had been swift, the information you had acquired only half what it should have been. But you couldn’t find it in you to focus on the failure of the mission. All your mind could seem to recall is that  **_voice_ ** . Why did you know that voice? Why did that name sound so familiar?

 

“He iz nothing but a criminal”, Angela answered, trying to keep her tone steady, normal. But you could hear the underlying layer of agitation, the attempts to try and keep her clipped tone under control. There was a miniscule tick in her left eye, a tell that she wasn’t quite able to clamp down all the way on. She...was lying.

 

You had never questioned the woman, trusted her wholeheartedly and believed in her goodness and honesty. She had saved you, hadn’t she? Why would she lie to you? What purpose would that serve you. And why did you know what to look for? Your mind was quickly going through tells; signs someone was being disingenuous, a skill that Angela had not taught you.

 

Act natural.Make her believe that you believe her.

 

Your mind ordered and you listened, forcing the tension out of your shoulders, your brow relaxing as you nodded your head and actually smiled at her. You gently took Angela’s hands in your own, sighing softly in ‘relief’.

 

“Thank you Ang”, you said, tilting your head to the side in a sweet gesture. “He really really shook me up. I don’t know what I’d do without you here.”

 

You watched Angela’s face go soft as she squeezed your hands back and smiled, tension relaxing in her shoulders. She wasn’t worried anymore, pulling you into a tight hug and rubbing your back warmly. You kept your body relaxed, your arms squeezing her back a little harder than normal. Showing her your ‘true’ appreciation.

 

“Of course”, she said as she pulled away, looking you over with a smile. “I am happy to help. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some rest?”

 

You nodded your head with a smile and turned towards your room, your steps calm and collected until you entered your room. Your hand drifted to your head, running your fingers to your hair as you tried to calm yourself down. You chewed on the inside of your cheek as you sank down onto your bed, brows furrowed as you tried to figure out just what the hell all of that was. Fighting being familiar had been explained, it was muscle memory from before you lost your memory. But reading microexpressions, manipulating someone emotionally, that was new. But at the same time it wasn’t…Just like that man…

 

_ ‘Te amo.’ _

 

_ ‘Te Quiero Besar’ _

 

_ ‘Mi reina’ _

 

_ ‘Tu me vuelves loca!’ _

 

_ ‘Princesita’ _

 

_ ‘Y/N’ _

 

That deep, husky voice played in your mind like clockwork, making your chest ache painfully for reasons you didn’t understand. Your head didn’t punish you now when they thought back to those words but you had absolutely no idea what to do with those memories. There was still no face to put to that image other than the tall, monster of a man. The man who took the image of the barn owl, of Santa Muerte, of new beginnings and protection from evil. Your brow furrowed even tighter. How did you know all this? 

 

_ You set a candle down at an altar, it was small and personal but yours. Santa Muerte shrouded, a skeleton face with long robes sat at the center. An apple. Coffee and caramel candies. A barn owl. The sickly sweet scent of tequila. A thick stack of bills. A single shotgun shell. _

 

_ ‘Protect him on his passage...’ _

 

Your shoulders jumped in surprise as tears that you hadn’t even known were there fell down your cheeks. Your fingers shook as they lifted, pushing them away only for more tears to replace them. A sob bubbled up from your chest, aching and painful but...relieved? Your arms wrapped tight around you as you tried to calm yourself down, your mind racing but always returning to one line of thought.

 

You knew the Reaper and he knew you. And you were going to find out how.

  
  


Reaper’s fingers flew across the keyboard, search after search coming to a dead end on Talon’s mainframe. His agitation was visible, plumes of smoke rolling off of his body as he slammed his hand down on the holo-keyboard only to have it dissipate. 

 

You had died in Lagos last year. They had found a body. There was a fucking funeral. He had made sure your grave was always covered in flowers. He had listened to you prattle on and on about the language of flowers, watched you make floral arrangements just as easily as you could disassemble a gun or break through someone’s security. His place used to smell like a florist and he would complain with a smile, only for you to stick a tiny blue forget-me-not into his curls. ‘True love’ you had told him it meant with a kiss, pressing your body into his and smiling up at him. You were his light in the hell that Blackwatch had thrown you into and that light had been snuffed out...until it wasn’t.

 

Gabriel growled; deep, low and monstrous sounding anger rippling through him. The death certificate had been signed by none other than Overwatch’s resident mad doctor, Angela Ziegler. The one who turned a boy into a cyborg monstrosity and then manipulated him into fighting until it thoroughly broke his spirit. The one who had played god and turned Gabriel Reyes into Reaper, and left him to fucking die when it seemed his body would not hold together. He was seething. He had mourned you, prayed to Santa Muerte for your journey and had reached out to you on Dia de los Muertos. And all this time, this witch had you. 

 

And she had done something to you. Gabriel couldn’t erase the scared look that had been in your big brown eyes, couldn’t unsee you going completely blank when he said your name. Realization sparkled as you came to before something slammed down on those memories, pain flashing across your beautiful face before you became frantic to get away from him. His humanity had been stripped away in pieces when he had been brought back; the need to consume souls, the aching cool emptiness that would fill his core satiated by death and vengeance, the need to violently correct what had caused the fall of Overwatch and Blackwatch. But seeing you had set a fire off inside of him, reawakening a loving need that he didn’t know he still had. His mind tried to convince him that it was a trick, that this was a clone or an AI or something other than the dead woman that had been buried. But he knew that wasn’t true, he could see your soul, could see that this was his woman. He was more smoke than person as he seethed, moving away from the computer and beginning to formulate a plan in his mind.

 

“Voy a matar a esa bruja”


End file.
